Zane gritted his teeth. He hurried past the brawl as quickly as possible, hoping the hoodlums had not seen him.

He had initially chosen this route because there was less hustle and bustle here and less chance of running into the fae of the Summer Court.

The Vaesen's demands on their new home were as varied as their origins. Some lived underground, others in the vast seas, lakes, and rivers. In contrast, others, like the fae, had usually settled more stylishly in castles, noble residences, and enormous buildings.

But the big problem with the Fae, Sidhe, Sith, or most of the peoples of the worlds beneath the hills was their nature: They were pure chaos. What they liked today, they didn't like tomorrow. What fascinated them or caught their attention was not bound to the strange perception of humans, and their morale flipped like a rabbit on the run, depending on their mood.

No wonder the fragile alliance between otherworlders and nightwalkers broke down. Since the war was won, the Vaesen had largely eliminated their common enemies; tensions had risen again. After conquering the world, everyone wanted a piece of the pie. It was just a shame when some wanted the same: dragons and dwarves, for example, craved the shimmering gold and gemstones in equal measure - and so a new, seething feud was born out of greed.

He had not believed Kaie when he had told him about the quarrels and complicated entanglements. But now that he could observe life on the surface for himself and with his own eyes, he felt the tension like sparks crackling in the air.

Zane sighed softly. It had been long since he had been on the surface—many moons, if not more.

An old brick wall full of posters and flyers caught his attention as he hurried past it. Some were already softened by the weather, others faded or torn off. But one of many caught his eye. As if in a mirror, his own face gazed back at him with a grim expression. The distinctive white hair fell around the striking features with the piercing almond eyes that gave his face something exotic and animalistic compared to the humans. Among the other beasts and wanted men, he blended in far too well with the criminals and other "traitors."

With a growl, his strong fingers tore the leaflet from the wall and stuffed it into the pockets of his long coat. The paper rustled between his fingers as he clenched his fist around it so tightly that it crumpled utterly. The damn thing didn't look like it had been hanging there for years ... So Oberon or his commander hadn't given up trying to make his life hell yet.

By Cernunnos, how was he supposed to solve Keie's murder or find this 'Myra' with bounty hunters breathing down his neck all the time?

As if that wasn't hard enough already. After all, it had always been Kaie's job to fight his way through the streets in daylight or walk in the shadows of the night world and gather the information they needed for a reason.

The thought of Kaie hit him like a bullet in the broad chest and even caused his tall body to sway slightly for a moment. Then, the Caith-Sith leaned his shoulder against one of the brick walls. Breathing heavily, Zane's tanned fingers ran over his face. He lowered his head so far that the hood pulled low over his face, casting a darker shadow over his eyes as if to mirror his emotions.

Kaie had always been on the prowl to discover when and where other foolish souls would free the fleshlings. His kind-hearted brother was obsessed with this treacherous, weak pack that called themselves human. He admired this ephemeral people who had gotten them into this whole mess in the first place. And how did it all end?

A deep rumble rose up, vibrating Zane's chest. His hands clenched into fists in the pockets of his dark trench coat until his fingernails pressed into his palms.

He could feel a dark storm of rage and revenge raging inside him. A wild roar swelled repeatedly, crashing in waves against the cliffs of his crumbling self-control. Ever since Kaie had been murdered in such a despicable way, he could hardly think of anything else. A huge black hole gaped inside him, where Kaie's warmth had balanced his soul since his birth. Now, this yawning maw was like a wide-open, hungry mouth that threatened to devour any remnants of sanity.

"I will repay your death a hundredfold," he murmured, even though he knew his brother couldn't hear him. Not anymore.

Days had passed since Kaie's death. Days in which he had neither slept nor eaten much - and yet he was neither exhausted nor hungry. Hatred and anger fueled him like coal on a fire, even though he knew this determination would not last.

But his senses were still heightened, and he listened intently to the whispers in the shabby alleyways. His eyes darted like sparks around a fire, and he was ready to pounce on anything that stood in his way. Since Kaie's death, he suspected a potential enemy around every corner. He had never been at peace but was now agitated and rushed.

It was not because of the bounty hunters or the danger of being found by his king's henchmen. Something else kept ringing in his soul like a chime: Humans could not kill the Vaesen so easily.

It had taken him a while to realize this tiny but essential detail. Anger and grief had clouded his thoughts too much. But then this realization hit him like a whiplash.

Most human weapons could not kill the Vaesen. They didn't have the magic or the special abilities needed to do so. Many Vaesen had very individual weaknesses, such as cold-forged iron for most Fae or stakes made of hawthorn or blackthorn for the Strigoi. This was another reason why it was so easy for the Vaesen to conquer this world. It was no comparison to the wars in the other worlds.

But he was not naïve enough to believe that this person just happened to be carrying a dagger made of cold-forged iron. No, the assassin knew the escape route and had deliberately murdered Kaie. But why had Kaie fallen victim to an assassination attempt when Zane was the one whose head had been offered as a reward?

At first, he wondered if it was Oberon's cruel revenge to rob him of his brother. But he had served King Oberon long enough to know the nature of the king. He was the leader of the Wild Hunt—a butcher - not a tactician.

The only clues were the dagger and the strange mark he had seen. But what kind of former bloodhound of the king would he be if that wasn't enough for him to go hunting?

Chapter 4 - The bloody Trace

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